


never too late

by lucashemwow



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bomb AU, Fluff, M/M, Non-Famous Luke, malum is mentioned in very very small passing, mikey cal and ash are all famous though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-30 00:00:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3915589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucashemwow/pseuds/lucashemwow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke is in the middle of a history test when the bomb hits.</p><p>He's carefully bubbling in A when the impact makes his pencil jerk across the paper, leaving a thick, dark grey line that tears through everything else as the building shakes, the lights flicker out, and the entire world seems to be split apart.</p><p>
  <i>a bomb tears apart sydney and also luke's life, but maybe ashton can put it back together.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	never too late

**Author's Note:**

> don't let the 'bomb au' fool you, there is very little mentions of the bomb
> 
> 8tracks for this fic can be found [ here ](http://8tracks.com/lucashemwow/we-said-it-was-forever-but-then-it-slipped-away#smart_id)
> 
> _reminder:_ please do not post/repost any of the things i have written and posted without my permission, no matter the website of circumstance

Luke is in the middle of a history test when the bomb hits.

He's carefully bubbling in A when the impact makes his pencil jerk across the paper, leaving a thick, dark grey line that tears through everything else as the building shakes, the lights flicker out, and the entire world seems to be split apart.

(In some ways, when he's able to stop and think later on, Luke feels like that pencil line accurately describes what had happened.)

Screaming erupts from the people around him, the thick grey smoke and dust clouding the air enough to where he can't see. He can hear his professor yelling for order, directing everyone to _get out, now_.

Luke grabs his backpack, hoisting it over his shoulder as he hurries through the hallways, amidst the hoards of other panicking students. His breath catches, heart pounding at the uncertainty of what's happening.

"Everyone, please remain calm," the loud speaker drones, the lights beginning to flicker on and off. "Everyone, please remain calm."

"We're going to die," a boy near Luke whimpers, glancing around fearfully before wailing, _"We're going to die!"_

"Please, go home as quickly as possible, and grab any and all belongings you may want. You will be bused into the next city," the loudspeaker continues.

(When Luke has time to stop and think about it, he doesn't understand why that order had been made; what if another bomb had gone off?)

The mass of students begin hurtling for the front doors, pushing each other to get out of the building. Luke is carried along, caught by the flood.

It isn't until he gets outside that he truly understands what had happened.

Everything is in ruins. As far as he can see, the city he grew up in is reduced to little more than piles of rubble and ash. Small fires are scattered around what remains of the buildings, people gingerly picking through the dust for any signs of survivors. Smoke rises in thick columns up into the sky.

Vaguely, as the people around him fall to their knees and weep, he remembers a photo he'd seen in his history textbook sometime ago. It depicted a place that looked much like Sydney did right now, almost identical. Nausea unfurls in his stomach when he recalls the caption.

_Tragedy strikes Hiroshima when the atomic bomb is released._

_We've been bombed_ , Luke thinks dizzily. _Sydney has been bombed._

Luke breaks into a sprint after that, trying and failing miserably to escape his thoughts, escape the horrors of what's in front of him. He desperately wishes that this is a lie, that he'll wake up and realise this is all a nightmare.

But, he knows, with a deep sinking feeling in his gut, that this is reality.

;

Somehow, he manages to run all the way back to his house, his lungs burning and the faint taste of blood left behind on his tongue when he slows down at his front porch.

He's never been more grateful for how in-the-middle-of-nowhere his house is, so far away from everything else that for a moment it almost seems like everything is okay. Then, he almost trips on a piece of rubble that most have been blasted there, and the sense of normalcy fades away.

He slowly pushes open the door, not even bothering to question why it is unlocked, and lets himself inside, sighing at how everything seems shaken up. Pictures are askew and trinkets have fallen to the floor, rolled on their sides. The furniture has shifted, crooked from where they sit.

Luke lets his backpack fall to the floor, the thump it causes echoing through the empty house. He hurries up the stairs, pausing once at how barren the house feels without his elder brothers and parents filling up the spaces. He pushes open the door to his room. He takes in the familiarity, aware that it is probably for the last time.

Slowly, methodically, he goes to his closet, grabbing the large duffle bag and placing it on his bed. He grabs all of his jeans and shirts, as well as boxers and flannels and sweaters, before placing his toiletries in there as well.

Then, he wraps his fingers around the neck of his guitar, carefully placing it into its case, lying that on the bed beside his bag. He packs up his computer and phone and their chargers, grabbing his wallet and headphones. A few of his favourite books and CDs are placed in the bag, as well as his penguin plush toys. The extra comfort of the plush toys will do him well, he decides.

A knock on the door downstairs makes him pause, confused. When the insistent pounding continues, he jogs down the stairs and throws open the door, wincing at the harsh light.

Two men in black suits stand in front of him, tall and broad and formidable in their stance. One is blond, with a dark, brooding face and a thickly scarred cheek. The other has black hair, and looks to be the more friendly of the two, with a shine of _something_ twinkling in his eyes.

"Luke Hemmings?" the blond asks, his voice just as gruff and uninviting as his appearance. Luke swallows, nodding carefully.

The black-haired man offers him a smile, obviously seeing his unease. "May we come in?"

Luke opens the door for them, trying to wrap his head around everything that has happened in the past hour. "Look, I didn't do anything wrong-"

"You aren't in trouble," the black-haired man assures, holding his hands up. "We just need to tell you something and escort you to your next destination. But first, introductions." He clears his throat. "I'm Agent Thesio, and this-" he motions to his blond companion "-is Agent Frost.

"Now, you're obviously a little shaken up and probably a lot confused, so I'll try to make this as easy as possible. You're aware that everyone in the city is being bused into Perth, correct?"

Luke nods.

Agent Thesio relaxes slightly. "Good, at least that's something. Now, first off, your brothers and parents are fine."

Luke sags in relief at that statement. He's been panicking just under the surface about whether or not they are okay.

"But, they've been taken out to fight in the war, as has anyone over the age of 18. If the war has not been won by your eighteenth birthday, you will fight as well, but for now, you're being taken to an shelter that is newly built with many of the other. children that have the same problem, or have been orphaned."

Luke stares in shock, his knees threatening to give underneath him. War? Fighting? His family?

Agent Frost's expression softens. "It's going to be alright, kid. We've been assigned to assure that you get to the shelter safely, and that you remain safe there as well."

"Are you packed?" Agent Thesio asks, glancing up the stairs. "The sooner we leave, the better."

Luke nods again, his voice failing him. Both agents disappear up the stairs, returning with Luke's bags and guitar slung over their shoulders, though Agent Thesio hands Luke a small bag, as well as one of his hoodies he'd forgotten to grab.

"Figured you might want these," the man says gently, ushering his partner out the door.

Luke looks down at the bag, slowly opening it to find all the picture frames he'd had in his room, as well as old photo albums that had been forgotten under years of papers and knick knacks on his shelves. 

Tears prick his eyes as he looks at the pictures, and as quickly as he can, he grabs all the picture frames he can carry off the walls, stuffing them into the bag until it's bursting at the seams.  

Then, he turns and walks through the open door, walking towards the tinted car without looking back at the empty, silent house. 

;

"Ashton, come look at this!" 

Ashton blinks open one eye at the sound of Michael's shout, body protesting at the fact that he's still awake. He's exhausted, goddammit, can't they handle themselves for one damn hour? 

"Ash, please!" Michael shouts again, and something about the urgency in his voice prompts Ashton to get up, hurrying out into the living room of their rented London flat despite the sleep blurring the edges of his vision. 

He finds Michael sitting on the couch, leaning forward towards the TV, remote control in hand. His face is ashen and there's a thinly veiled edge of panic in his eyes that automatically has Ashton bristling. 

"Look at this," is all Michael says, as he turns the volume of the TV back up so that Ashton can hear it. 

"A bomb devastates Sydney, Australia earlier today," the man reports. "Australia has been the target of many attacks from the Middle East in the past decade, but never anything to this magnitude. Officials say that the damage is extensive, and with more than 300 dead and thousands wounded or missing, we can only hope-" 

 "Stop," Ashton says weakly, slowly collapsing down onto the couch beside Michael. The other boy turns the TV down, his hand shaking. 

 "Sydney was bombed?" Ashton asks quietly, a near child-like vulnerability in his voice, so unlike him that it is almost enough to shock him back into reality. Almost. 

 "Yeah," Michael whispers, his eyes focused on the ground. 

Ashton looks at his hands, vaguely noting that they're trembling. "Oh god- so many hurt, and I- _fuck-_ our _families-_ " 

"They're fine," Calum interrupts, stepping into the room from the kitchen, phone in hand. If it wasn't for the too tight skin around his eyes, he would've looked cool and calm. "I just got off the phone with them, everyone's okay and just a little shaken up with minor injuries. They're driving out to Perth, to your grandparents' summer home, Ash." 

Ashton nods shakily, relieved that at least his family, and the boys', are okay. 

 "We've got to do something," Michael says desperately, tugging on his hair. "We can't- we can't just sit around and do _nothing_ while our hometown was just destroyed." 

"What can we do, Mike? What can anyone do?" Calum asks wearily. "We can't just-" 

"Wait," Ashton says sharply, leaning forward again, narrowing his eyes. "Mike, rewind a little bit and turn it up." 

Michael does as directed, turning the TV back up to a reasonable level so Ashton can pay attention. 

"-we've just been alerted that many of Sydney's children and young adults are being bused out into another city, into a newly built shelter where they will remain for the time being. Many of these children have been orphaned, while some are going because their families are fighting, as anyone over the age of 18 has been drafted into the army. More on the story at eleven." 

This time, Michael switches off the TV, a shell-shocked expression on his face. "What?" 

Ashton frowns, getting up to pace around the room, hand tangling in his hair. "They've sent everyone over 18 into the army? What about our families?" 

"Mum said that they didn't have to go because they could prove they were related to us," Calum explains, sitting down. "It had something to do with us being both Australian and famous." 

Michael lets out a furious noise, furrowing his eyebrows. "So it's because of us. What about all the kids that have no parents anymore because they were forced into the army? Huh? What about all those kids in the shelter? I'm not saying I hate that our families are safe, but how unfair is that?" 

The implications of his words slowly sink into the other two, and they realises he's right. No matter how much they love their families, the fact that thousands of other children and adults have to suffer, while they don't simply because their sons are famous, is outraging. Ashton wants to help, in some way. 

An idea forms in his head, quickly branching out, until- 

"That's it!" Ashton exclaims, spinning around and pointing a finger at Michael. "That's how we'll help!" 

Calum raises an eyebrow. "Vouch for every kid there? I'm pretty sure that they'd get suspicious." 

Ashton rolls his eyes. "No, you shit. We can't do that. But, we can find out where this shelter is, and at least try to help with all of the kids. We've got a break coming up in like, two weeks, we can do it." 

Michael looks up at him, his eyes blazing with an emotion Ashton can't identify. "Fuck, yeah, you're right Ash. We can offer to help in any way that we can." 

"So find the address of the shelter and contact them. It should be easy," Calum says. 

;

Turns out it really isn't that easy. 

It takes weeks for Ashton to be able to find the location of the shelter, let alone be able to contact them or get a response. He assumes it has something to do with the fact that the officials don't want the other side finding the shelter and bombing it as well. 

(Calum snorts every time he sees Ashton on the computer, page after page of Google searches piled up in the tabs, once again empty mug of coffee sat beside the keyboard. 

"You're spending way too much time trying to find the shelter," he'll say, rolling his eyes fondly, brushing his knuckles across Ashton's forehead butterfly light. "It's not a big deal, don't wear yourself so thin." 

"It's a big deal to me," Ashton replies defensively, huddling his shoulders in,  all too red eyes and too tired body. 

Calum just rolls his eyes, letting Ashton do what he wants with a soft kiss to the top of his head.) 

And now, with the three of them in a small car in front of the shelter, Ashton can't help but feel a small sense of triumph at the awed expression in Calum's eyes, can't quite help the _Told you so_ that flashes through his mind. 

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Michael says quietly, the air feeling too charged for anything louder, like the inside of the car is ready to be lit at any time and a simple raised voice would do it. "Not to be rude or disrespectful, but shouldn't a bomb shelter look a little more... _worn?"_  

Ashton can't help the small part of him that agrees, even as the rest of him firmly shouts that _that's stereotypical, shut up._

The walls of the huge building in front of him are a polished grey, hard stone columns holding the arched roof up in place. Wrought iron fences circle the property, small stone gargoyles at the tops that make even Ashton's skin crawl with unease, demonic in their appearance. Ashton feels like the building is more suited to be an office building, maybe some state building, not the house of hundreds of people who barely survived the bomb. 

Before any of them can make any other comment, the door swings open, revealing a stout, pot-bellied woman, grey hair wild and eyes even wilder. She smiles at the sight of the boys, and despite her crazy appearance, Ashton feels completely calm and _safe_ as she walks up to them. 

"Thank you so much for coming," she says warmly, shaking each of their hands firmly. There's a sense of _mother_ within this woman, Ashton is sure. "I'm Charlize, but you can call me Char, that's what all the little ones do. Oh, they're going to be so excited you're here, come, come." 

They follow her up the small gravel path to the door, trying to keep their gawking to a minimum as she carefully opens the door, looking around before letting them in. 

The second they walk in, Ashton has no doubts that they are in the right place. 

There are people everywhere, in every corner. Little children play joyfully in the room to his left, blissfully unaware of everything that's going on in the way only children _can_ be. Teenagers are sprawled all over couches and beanbags, some on phones, others laughing, though every laugh is subdued. A pang shoots through him when he notice that everyone in the room is younger than him. Other than Char, there are no adults. 

He expected as much, from what the news report had said, but seeing this, and knowing that all of these children lost their parents and their elder siblings... It makes Ashton sick to his stomach. 

He vaguely remembers going to a homeless shelter with his mother when he was young, only fuzzily remembers scooping bowls of soup and trying to make people laugh with his dumb jokes. 

One thing he remembers vividly, however, had been the look in all of those peoples' eyes. It haunts him to this day. The look of pure hopelessness, like they'd watched everything they loved broken in front of them. Many looked like they were about to cry at any given second, driven by despair and fuelled by pain. 

Looking at the faces of the people around him, Ashton can see the same expressions in the eyes of the elder children, and a sense of isolation in the younger, though they won't understand what that is. 

"I'll take you guys to Luke," Char interrupts his thoughts, making him jerk slightly, tearing his eyes away from where they'd been locked in the particularly agonised face of a teenager not much younger than him. She looks at him sympathetically, understanding what is going on in his head. 

"Who's Luke?" Michael asks quietly, sticking close to them. Ashton knows him well enough to see the barely repressed tears in the hard line of his jaw. 

Char sighs, leading them down the hallway. Ashton tries to ignore the eyes following them, some in excitement as they recognise them, others in dull curiosity. They've lost all hope. "He's the eldest here, even though he's just barely 17. He's the one with the most responsibilities. All the little ones love him." 

She carefully pushes open a door, letting them in a huge room. She gestures towards the back corner of the room, where a lone boy sits in the middle of no less than a hundred kids, guitar on his lap. 

The first thing Ashton notices about him is that _god_ , he is _gorgeous_ , all delicate features and bright blue eyes and soft blond hair, broad shoulders and small button nose. A black lipring pierces through the fragile skin of his lip, his small hands expertly holding the neck of the guitar as he plays. 

Ashton frowns as he realised what the boy is playing, tuning back in to catch the song. 

_"Even if I say, it'll be alright, still I hear you say, you want to end your life. Now and again we try to just stay alive. Maybe we'll turn it around 'cause it's not too late, it's never too late,"_ he sings, his voice clear and soothing. It flows throughout the room in a way that makes Ashton's pulse pound. 

_"The world we knew won't come back. The time we've lost can't get back. The life we knew won't be ours again."_

Ashton watches in a daze as the boy finishes the rest of the song, mind going a million miles an hour. He's so confused, so utterly stupefied as to why the boy chose _that_ song, especially for the younger ones huddled around him, their unblinking eyes trained on his face as he sings. 

"Luke," Char calls softly, rousing the boy from his song, motioning for him to join her. The boy pushes himself up, swinging his guitar onto his back. 

The little girl who had been closest to him, an adorable little curly haired blonde with big blue eyes who can't have been much older than two, pouts and looks like she is going to start crying, but calms down when the boy pulls her into a hug, kissing her chubby cheek. 

"Yeah, Char?" the boy asks when he was in earshot, not having noticed Ashton, Calum, or Michael yet. 

She smiled, sliding a hand over his shoulder. The familiarity between them is palpable. "There's some people I'd like for you to meet, love." 

The boy's eyes flicker up to meet Ashton's for a moment, and Ashton gets the feeling that this boy knows who they are already. Char realises this as well, gently flicking his ear with a small smile. "Luke, this is Ashton, Michael, and Calum. They've come to help out around here for a while." 

"Hi." Luke waves, a cherry flush staining his cheeks. 

Up close, he is even more beautiful, thickly frantic eyelashes fanning over his cheeks when he looks down. But Ashton can also see the pain in his eyes, buried down deliberately; Ashton can only _imagine_ the horrors this boy has seen in his short life. 

"Why were you playing that song?" Michael asks, forgoing any attempt at a greeting and speaking Ashton's thoughts. "Not like- not to be _mean,_ but isn't that song a little, you know, _much_ for all these little kids?" 

Ashton watches Luke's happy expression melt away, a serious look taking its place. The pain in his eyes amplifies, seeming to realise that these boys aren't going to be there to judge him for breaking down. "Lily requested it," he says, tilting his chin in an almost defiant matter. "She heard me playing it the first day we were here, and now she always wants me to play it.

"And," he continues, looking down at the floor, "most of these kids don't have much to their names. A lot of them are too young to have anything more than a few sets of clothes and maybe some toys. Us older kids got out with our phones and computers and books and such, but they didn't." He looks back up, a fiery passion blazing in his eyes. "If I can do anything to make this easier for them, to make them happy and distract them from the fact that they've lost almost all of their family, I will, no matter what." 

Ashton's heart stutters at how selfless the boy in front of him seems. Judging by Calum and Michael's shocked looks, they feel the same. 

Char claps her hands, making Ashton jerk violently, the sound seeming out of place in the suddenly subdued and quiet air. Calum chuckles, reaching out to rub Ashton's shoulder. "Y'alright there, Ash?" The mocking in his voice is palpable. 

Ashton glares at him, huddling his shoulders in, trying to make himself smaller than his tall frame will allow. "You know what, you can fuck right off, thanks." 

It coaxes a sweet giggle from Luke, the sound weaving through Ashton, dipping into his bloodstream, running through his veins and into his heart, where it curls, low and heady, into a loop around it, permanently stuck there. 

Michael smirks at him, obviously seeing the affection in Ashton's eyes. He nudges against Ashton teasingly, flicking his eyes to the blue eyed boy. 

Ashton shoves him away with an eye-roll, relishing in the laughter it pulls from Luke. 

;

Luke really, really enjoys having the boys at the shelter, actually. 

They're an enormous help, three extra sets of hands, and all the little ones love them, especially Ashton. Everyone in the shelter has taken to him almost immediately, with all the girls having crushes on him. He's rarely seen without a small group of girls following him. 

It makes Luke snort with laughter, because he knows none of them have a chance with Ashton in the first place. As him and Ashton get significantly closer in the weeks that he's been here, Ashton trusts him with the knowledge that he's gay (and the knowledge makes a little flame of hope burn in Luke's chest.)

He's known he had a crush on Ashton one morning after they'd arrived, when he'd walked into the kitchen to find a shirtless Ashton standing at the stove making eggs. He'd offered Luke a dimpled smile, oblivious to how Luke's eyes were struggling not to hungrily trace the defined muscles in his stomach, the slim hips, the v-line, the thick build of his biceps. 

It's torture trying to play it cool after that, especially with how affectionate Ashton has become with him, always pulling him into impromptu hugs and cuddles, pressing obnoxious kisses to his cheeks and forehead. 

One day, three or so weeks after Ashton had arrived, Luke finds himself alone in the kitchen with Ashton, the beginnings of a cake in front of them. Ashton has a small smudge of flour on his left cheek, the rumpled curl of his hair giving him a softer, younger appearance. 

"Hand me the butter please," Ashton instructs, hand outstretched. Luke grabs the stick of butter from beside him, placing it in Ashton's open hand, trying to steady his breathing when their skin brushes. 

"Water," Ashton asks next, hand once again open expectantly. 

Luke raises an eyebrow. "Am I your personal servant now?" 

Ashton chuckles, glancing over at him. "Of course, you've been my personal servant since I got here." 

Luke rolls his eyes, grabbing the measured cup of water, being sure to spill a little bit on Ashton as he does. "Oops," he says sarcastically, biting back a grin at the offence on Ashton's face. 

Ashton scowls. "You're going to regret that, you little shit." 

"Oh yeah?" Luke smirks, stepping into Ashton's space, tilting his head up to look at him. 

Ashton glares at him, pinning him back against the counter with one huge hand pressed to his hip, the other resting on his waist. "I think you need to be taught a lesson," he murmurs wickedly, and before Luke can react or stop him, he's cruelly digging his fingers into Luke's sides, tickling him. 

Luke shrieks with laughter, thrashing from side to side, trying to pull away from Ashton even as his lungs burn from lack of air. "Uncle, uncle," he gasps, curling into himself. "Please Ash-" 

Ashton grins, pulling the younger into his chest and moving his attack to all parts of Luke's body, making him pant even as breathless laughs escaped him. 

Eventually, Ashton takes pity on him, slowing his attack until his hands are just gently resting on Luke's waist, keeping him pressed up against his chest. Luke can't deny that he loves this position, cuddled up into Ashton's body with said boy's hands holding him close. 

He opens his eyes (when had they closed?) and looks up, shocked to find Ashton already looking down at him, hazel eyes soft with something that seemed too precious to say aloud. They soften even further when Luke meets his gaze, his thumb coming up to gently stroke Luke's cheek. 

"God, you're beautiful," he whispers, reverence and awe the most decipherable emotions in his voice. "So, _so_ gorgeous."

Luke's eyes flutter shut once more, and he turns his cheek more into Ashton's hand, inviting him to continue. Ashton brushes his knuckles over Luke's jawline, coaxing him to tilt his head up. 

Soft lips nervously press against his, taking his breath and turning his legs to jelly. Luke is shocked, but even in his frozen state, his mind is screaming at him to kiss back. 

He parts his lips a little, allowing Ashton to take the lead, reaching up to tangle his fingers in his soft curls. Ashton moans quietly, pulling Luke even closer, the hand at his jaw sliding around to cup the back of his neck. He's hyper-aware of every place that he and Ashton touch, his skin almost _burning_ from the contact. 

He doesn't know how long he and Ashton stand there kissing, doesn't know if it's been seconds or hours, but he knows he never wants it to end. The way that Ashton holds him, so gentle and loving, has his heart wanting to flutter right out of his chest. He loves being pressed up against Ashton's chest, loves the solid strength that comes from the boy in front of him. 

When they finally do part, with kiss-swollen lips and burning lungs, Ashton just smiles at him, his cheeks flushed a beautiful pink. He doesn't say anything, but the expression in his eyes is enough. 

Luke grins back, hoping that Ashton can read how he feels in his own eyes. 

Judging by the soft kiss that Ashton pulls him into just seconds later, he can. 

;

They don't put a label on what they are, and Luke is strangely grateful for that. 

He doesn't have much longer at the shelter, he knows that; in only a matter of months, he'll be shipped off the fight in the war that won't be won for a long time, while Ashton's fame keeps him from having to worry of such things. He's _terrified_ of this, even more so now that he'll have to leave Ashton, especially since the elder boy knows little to nothing about his fate. 

He knows he has to tell Ashton, that he can't just leave on the day they come for him with a note that says _i'm sorry_. He has to properly explain, he thinks. And soon. 

But for now, he's content to just bask in the glow of whatever he and Ashton are. 

One morning, Luke wakes up a lot earlier than normal. The sun isn't even up when he peeks at the curtains, and the clock on his small table reads _4:34 am_. He blinks, aching to fall back asleep, but there's an itch under his skin that means he can't lay still. 

He gets up, shivering when the cold air hits his exposed skin, quickly bundling into one of Ashton's sweaters and a pair of sweatpants, sliding a pair of fluffy slippers onto his feet. 

When he opens the door to his room, he can see that Ashton's room is cracked slightly, and there's a small beam of light that hits the wall beside him. Quietly, carefully, he pushes up the door, wincing when the bright light hits his eyes. His heart melts at the sight in front of him. 

Ashton's lying on his back, asleep, clad in only boxers and a t-shirt, the covers rumpled underneath him. His arm is thrown next to his head, his other hand still with its thumb stuck between the pages of the book lying on his chest. His mouth is parted, gentle snores filling the bright air. 

Luke gently takes the book from Ashton, marking the page before setting in on the table. Next, he carefully pulls the covers free from under Ashton's body, stopping frequently to hush him when he murmurs. Eventually, he manages to drape the covers over Ashton's now curled up form, watching as the elder boy snuggles into them. Luke smiles softly, bending to press his lips to Ashton's temple before he clicks off the lamp, submerging the room in darkness once again. 

Once his eyes have adjusted, he steps from the room, softly closing the door on his way out. Descending down the stairs, he flicks on some hallway lights as he goes. It's kind of creepy, being awake this early, alone, but he knows that Char will be awake soon anyways, so that's not much of a bad thing. 

When he's about to turn into the kitchen, Luke hears a small whimper come from one of the nursery rooms to his left, and he turns towards it. There's only a handful of children under the age of 6, because most have been taken in by other relatives that live outside of Australia. 

He finds Lily standing up in her crib, her big blue eyes watery and her thumb in her mouth. She whimpers around it when she sees Luke, reaching her chubby arm towards him. 

"Oh, Lilypad," he whispers, bending to pick her up and place her on his hip. "What's the matter, bug?" 

She sniffles, cuddling into his neck, her soft curls brushing his jaw. "Cuddles," she eventually says, pouting up at him. 

Luke smiles at her, holding her tightly, kissing the top of her head. "You want snuggles, huh?" 

Lily nods, clinging to his chest. He carries her into the kitchen, securing an arm under her bum to keep her from falling. 

He hears movement upstairs, but assumes it's just Char beginning to wake up, so he thinks nothing of it. He pulls out the ingredients for pancakes, thinking that if he's awake, he may as well make breakfast. 

He hums as he mixes everything into a big bowl, a little slower because he only has one arm. It's a song he's been working on lately. He thinks maybe he'll show it to Ashton soon. 

"Wookey," Lily croons softly, playing with the collar of his shirt. She's never been able to say his name correctly; the closest she gets is always 'Wookey.' 

"Hi, Lilypad," he grins, puckering his lips down at her. She giggles, stretching up to press a little peck to his mouth. 

"Sing?" she requests, laying her little head on his shoulder. 

He kisses her forehead and sings a few lines of the song he was humming earlier, keeping his voice down as to not wake any of the other kids. 

Movement from behind him distracts him from the song. He turns his head towards the doorway to the kitchen, protectively holding Lily against his chest, but he relaxes at who he sees. 

Ashton leans against the door, his eyes stuck on Luke. He's sleep-rumpled and soft, eyelids still drooping from his dreams. His hair is wild around his face, his clothing wrinkled and worn, but he's never looked more beautiful than that moment. 

"Don't stop on my behalf," he says, smiling at Luke, beginning to walk over. 

Luke rolls his eyes, hitching Lily higher up on his hip. "What are you doing up?" 

Ashton shrugs, reaching out to brush a piece of hair from Luke's eyes. "You woke me up when you came into my room, and I just forced myself to get up." 

Luke smiles softly, reaching up to gently thumb over Ashton's jaw. "I'm sorry." 

Ashton turns his head to press his lips to Luke's palm. "No, don't apologise, angel. It wasn't in a bad way. Why are you awake this early, anyways?" 

Luke shrugs. "Woke up and couldn't get back to sleep, I guess. It's a good thing I did, because the little bug was awake too." He looks down at Lily, but finds her nodding off against his shoulder, her thumb hanging limply in her mouth. He softens his voice, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Guess all the cuddling wore you out, huh?" 

Ashton has this precious look in his eyes when Luke looks back up at him, like Luke is the most dear thing he'll ever see. It catches Luke's breath in his chest, the sheer beauty in it. 

Ashton skims his knuckles down Luke's throat. "You're going to make an amazing dad someday," he whispers, the precious look expanding so much it almost hurts to look at. 

Luke smiles softly in response, gently humming to calm Lily when she whimpers, holding her closer to comfort her. Ashton steps closer, sliding a hand up Luke's waist, thumb stroking over the delicate structure of Luke's ribs. 

It doesn't come as much surprise when Ashton leans down and connects their mouths. Luke just fists his hand in the material of Ashton's shirt, parting his lips. 

The kiss is gentle and sweet, sleepy and soft around the edges like Ashton himself. It's oddly domestic, kissing lazily in the kitchen with a baby against his chest. Luke melts into it, welcoming the feel of Ashton licking into his mouth. He likes the calm feeling of serenity that grounds them, likes that despite the lazy arousal pouring through him, he still just wants to curl up with Ashton and cuddle him. 

It's then that he realises he's in love with Ashton. 

It doesn't shock him; if he thinks about it, he's been in love for weeks, but he's just now putting it together. It does, however, reinstate that Luke needs to tell him about the war. It won't be fair to Ashton if he doesn't. 

Lily makes a sound, muffled by his shirt, that breaks them apart from where they'd just been lazily kissing. She's fully out now, tiny little puffs of air hitting Luke's neck. 

"I'm going to take her back to her room," Luke whispers, stretching to press one last fleeting kiss to Ashton's bottom lip. "I'll be right back." 

He doesn't miss the way that Ashton dreamily touches his lips, or the bright smile that grows on the elder's face. He chooses to ignore it, pushing open the door to the kitchen and walking down the hallway. 

He tucks Lily into her crib, pressing a light kiss to her forehead. He stands there for a second, smoothing her blonde curls with the backs of his fingers. He desperately wishes that she could have a life where she didn't have to stay in this godforsaken shelter, where she could be with her family and be _happy_. But that's not the life she has, that's not the life that any of them have. 

When he returns to the kitchen, he finds Ashton stirring the bowl of abandoned pancake batter, humming thoughtlessly as he mixes everything together. Luke walks over to him and wraps his arms around his waist, kissing his bare shoulder. 

"Hey," Ashton smiles, his voice quieter now that they're alone. 

Luke hides his grin in Ashton's back, squeezing him tighter. "Hi," he whispers, the moment seeming too precious to speak any louder. 

Ashton turns to face him, tipping his chin up to kiss him quickly. Before Luke can melt into the kiss, Ashton's pulling back with a peck to his forehead. 

Luke pouts, leaning his head against the middle of Ashton's back when he turns back to the pancake batter, carefully beginning the process of actually _making_ the pancakes. Luke's never enjoyed that part, always too afraid that the stove top will burn him or something will go wrong. Maybe that's why he's not that great of a cook. 

Ashton leans back into his embrace as he expertly flips a few pancakes, concentrated solely on the task in front of him. It's cute, in Luke's opinion, the little furrow between his eyebrows and the little pucker to his lip. 

Ashton feels his stare, and self-consciously looks at him. "What? Have I got something on my face?" 

Luke grins softly at him, pecking his jaw. "You're beautiful, that's all." 

A flush steals over Ashton's cheeks, spreading down to his neck as he suddenly finds the spatula in his hands extremely interesting. Luke likes that he has this effect on Ashton. 

_Tonight_ , he thinks. _I'll tell him tonight._

;

That night, after Ashton had taken Luke out into the streets of Perth, had taken him on a proper date complete with a movie and dinner, Luke finds himself straddling Ashton, pushing him down on the bed with hands on his shoulders as their lips attack each other. 

Luke feels almost light-headed with the arousal pooling in his belly, the boy in front of him flooding his senses until all he can see and smell and feel and hear is _Ashton_. Most of all, he feels Ashton, feels the way the elder is holding onto him so desperately, like if he loosens his grip at all Luke will slip away. 

Ashton slips a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to part his lips, dipping their tongues together. Luke can't quite help the moan that drags from his throat, the sound making Ashton kiss him harder, hold him tighter. 

There's a certain intimacy behind every move, a blazing passion that wraps around them, giving meaning to everything they do. 

Ashton flips them over, tenderly brushing his thumb over Luke's cheek before he's back to kissing Luke like his life depends on it. Luke's heart is beating wildly in his chest, each thump resonating into Ashton's skin until they are synched, connected. 

"I love you," Ashton whispers out, his voice breathless and faint. He's got a hand under Luke's back, tilting him up to press their hips together, lips attached to his neck. 

Luke blinks back tears, tightening his grip on Ashton's shoulders. The words he knows he has to say are settled in his chest, crushing his lungs. "Ash..." he murmurs. 

He doesn't know if it's the sound of his name, or the broken, pained way Luke says it, that gets Ashton to stop, but he pulls away, his eyebrows knitting together. His eyes darken when he sees the tears. 

Luke swallows, gently flipping them over so he's back on top, lacing their fingers together and pressing them into the bed next to Ashton's shoulders. His head hangs down, the longer strands of his hair falling into his eyes. "I have to tell you something," he says, voice small and scared. 

Ashton struggles to get up, panic in his eyes. "Fuck, you don't love me back. Shit, shit, forget I said anything, fuck-" 

Luke gentles his body back down, kisses him quiet. "I love you, you giant idiot," he smiles. The smile is heavy. 

Ashton relaxes slightly. "Then what is it?" Concern is the most prominent emotion in his eyes. 

Luke squeezes his eyes shut, takes a few deep breaths. Eventually, he realises he will never be ready to tell Ashton, so he has to just force it out. "You know how every adult was shipped off to fight in the war? Or be some part of it?" At Ashton's nod, Luke feels his stomach clench with nerves. "They don't think it'll be won soon." He swallows, blinking back tears. 

Ashton notices, sliding a hand up Luke's side. "Angel, you don't have to continue," he whispers. He looks worried, possibly because Luke can feel his heart breaking in his chest. 

But Luke shakes his head, clinging to Ashton now. "They told me that on my eighteenth birthday, I'd have to join the war," he whispers. Ashton gasps, bundles him closer. "That's not the worst part, Ash." He closes his eyes, snuggling deeper into Ashton, desperately needing the comfort. "My birthday is in two months. They're coming for me in two months." 

Ashton doesn't say anything, just slides his arms around Luke's waist, hiding his face in the crook of Luke's neck. They cry quietly, holding each other so tightly one wouldn't be able to tell where Luke ended and Ashton began. 

"I'll protect you," Ashton finally murmurs, his lips brushing Luke's forehead. "I don't care what it takes, I swear I will fix this. I refuse to let you go, angel. Not when I just got you." 

Luke rubs his cheek over Ashton's chest, tilting his head up to look at him. Ashton looks so pained, his eyes watery and too bright. Luke slips closer, pressing their lips together. 

Ashton gentles Luke's body into the mattress, laying over him. Their lips are an easy slick slide over each other's, a simple glide of lips and tongue that leaves them both deliciously breathless. 

When Luke's hand tugs at his shirt, Ashton pulls back and strokes his thumb over Luke's cheek. "Have you ever done this before, angel?" 

Luke shakes his head, threading his fingers through Ashton's hair. 

Ashton smiles softly, leaning down to kiss him. "I'll go slow," he promises quietly. 

They slowly shed their clothing, exploring every inch of exposed skin available. Their bare bodies slide over the other's, friction making their heads swim. 

Ashton sucks a bruise into Luke's throat as he opens Luke up on his fingers, slowly stealing his sanity until all Luke knows is the pleasure deep in his belly. 

They move together in an easy rhythm, Ashton deep inside Luke in a way that feels permanent, like Luke will never be able to scrub himself clean from Ashton's touch. It feels amazing, Ashton's fingertips branding into his hips, his thighs, his stomach. They are fire, blazing together under the soft light of Luke's lamp. Their bodies stay pressed close, merging into a single entity. Their hearts connect, intertwine, coming together. They are a supernova, exploding together, pleasure blooming through both of them. 

When they're done, and the fire settles to a dull simmer in their veins, Ashton pulls Luke close, kissing the top of his head. 

When he whispers, "I'll never let you go," it feels like a promise. 

;

Time passes quicker than either would like, weeks slipping by like water between their fingers. Before they know it, they have three weeks until Luke will have to leave. 

Luke's been working on his song for a while, and he thinks he's finally ready to show it to Ashton. It's fitting, in a way, that his parting gift to Ashton is a song he wrote for the boy. 

He nervously wraps his fingers around the neck of his guitar, his stomach clenching when he rounds the corner to the living room, finding Ashton sprawled out on the couch with Michael and Calum. Luke hasn't seen much of the other two boys in the past couple of months. Judging by the way they're clinging to each other, and the way they look at each other, Luke can infer as to why that is. 

"Ash?" he calls timidly, flushing when everyone in the room turns to look at him. He bites his lip. "Can I show you something?" 

He thinks Ashton puts two and two together when he sees Luke's guitar, but he doesn't say anything, only pushes himself up. Michael arches an eyebrow, which makes the blush on Luke's cheeks deepen. "You guys can come too," he says, directing at Michael and Calum. Maybe if they're there, it'll make him less nervous. 

He leads the three of them up to his room, gingerly settling himself against the headboard of his bed. Ashton sits directly across from him, Michael leaning against the wall with Calum in his lap. 

Luke positions the guitar in his lap, gently plucking at a string. "I, uh, wrote you a song," he mumbles, ducking his head. He'll probably be a permanent cherry colour by the time this is done. "And I, uh, just finished it, and thought you should hear it." 

Ashton's giving him a soft, encouraging smile when he looks up, gently nodding at him to continue. Luke takes courage from that, looking back down at his guitar. 

He slowly starts plucking the chords, the familiar music putting him at ease. When he opens his mouth to sing, he's pleasantly surprised that his voice doesn't shake. _"When I look into your eyes, it's like watching the night sky, or a beautiful sunrise. There's so much they hold."_

He closes his eyes, knowing if he looks at Ashton he'll lose his nerve and stop playing. _"And just like them old stars, I see that you've come so far, to be right where you are. How old is your soul?"_

_"I won't give up, on us. Even if the skies get rough. I'm giving you all my love. I'm still looking up."_ Tears prick behind his closed eyelids. This song means so much to him. He never wants to leave Ashton, never wants to give him away or let him go. He never ever wants to go back to the life he had where Ashton wasn't there. 

_"And when you're needing your space, to do some navigating, I'll be here patiently waiting, to see what you find."_ He opens his eyes, locks gazes with Ashton. There's tears streaming down both of their faces, but these next parts are the ones that Luke needs Ashton to hear. _"Cause even the stars, they burn. Some even fall to the earth. We've got a lot to learn, but God knows we're worth it. No, I won't give up."_

His strumming gets louder, more passionate, as his pain leaks into the song. Ashton leans forward, his hand wrapping around Luke's ankle. _"I don't want to be someone who walks away so easily, I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make. Our differences, they do a lot to teach us how to use the tools and gifts we've got, yeah, we got a lot at stake. And in the end you're still my friend, at least we did intend for us to work, we didn't break, we didn't burn. We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in. I had to learn what I got, and what I'm not, and who I am."_

Somehow, him and Ashton end up with their foreheads pressed together, as close as possible with Luke's guitar still in the way. Their tears drip down their chins, soaking into their t-shirts. 

_"I won't give up, on us,"_ Luke sings, his voice wobbling now that the tears are closing up his throat. _"Even if the skies get rough. I'm giving you all my love. I'm still looking up, I'm still looking up. I won't give up on us. God knows I'm tough enough. We got a lot to learn, God knows we're worth it."_

He smiles at Ashton, a small little flash of teeth as his bottom lip wobbles. _"I won't give up, on us,"_ he sings, a lot softer and quieter. This moment is for him and Ashton, nevermind the two still watching. _"Even if the skies get rough. I'm giving you all my love. I'm still looking up."_

The last note hangs in the air for a few seconds, ringing in all of their ears. Then, Ashton carefully pulls Luke's guitar away, tenderly putting it down on the floor. The hug he pulls Luke into is the opposite of gentle, crushing in the best way possible. They cling to each other as they sob, tears soaking into their shirts. Luke refuses to let Ashton go even for a second, tucked into his chest. He wants to make a home, right here, nestled into Ashton's heart, so that he never has to leave. 

Vaguely, he hears Michael usher Calum out, both of them sounding choked up, but he doesn't want to focus on anything other than the heat of Ashton's body, the steady _thump thump thump_ of his heartbeat underneath his ear. 

This is everything he wants in life. This is all he needs to be happy, and it's going to be ripped away from him in three weeks time. 

His heart will be ripped from him then too. 

;

The day of his eighteenth birthday is quiet. 

Everyone knows what it means. He gets smiles and hugs, small presents here and there, but no one will look him in the eyes for long. Lily refuses to let him go, sobbing and screaming into his chest. He wants so badly to comfort her and tell her he won't leave her, but he can't lie to her. 

Char tells him that the agents are coming at noon. She looks so sad, upset and old in a way she hasn't in a long time. Luke supposes it's because of how close he and her have gotten. She's taken her place as a mother figure in his life, a mentor and a guider in all the ways he needed. 

Noon comes way too soon. 

Ashton stiffens beside him when the knock on their bedroom comes, his eyes filling with tears once again. Both of their sets of bags are packed and ready, as Ashton, Michael, and Calum will be heading to the airport after Luke leaves. There's no point in them staying anymore, Luke thinks. Their break is almost over, anyways. 

Agent Frost peaks his head in, his smile darkening at the two boys curled up on the bed. He sighs, stepping into the room with Agent Thesio behind him. "I'm sorry Luke," he says sincerely.

Luke swings himself off the bed, pulling Ashton up with him. Both of them are silent as they grab their bags, heading down the stairs. Ashton drops his bags next to Michael and Calum's next to the door, heading outside to help Luke get his things into the back of the car. 

Ashton sighs, shutting the boot with a dull sound. When Luke turns to look at him, he finds Ashton already looking back with his eyes swimming with tears. 

"I don't want you to go," he whispers, and just like that, they're clinging to each other, crying once again. It seems that's all they're able to do now. 

"Please come with me," Ashton whimpers, head buried in Luke's neck. "I don't care what it takes, I want you to come with me, I don't want you to have to go somewhere where you-" 

He stops, takes in a quick breath. The  _where you might not come back_ remains unsaid. 

"You know I would if I could," Luke murmurs, stroking Ashton's cheek. "I love you so much Ash, so so much. It's been only a few months but you've stolen my heart. I don't want to let you go." 

Ashton looks agonised. "So don't. Stay with me angel. I need you, Lukey. I love you." 

Luke smiles ruefully, leaning up to fit their lips together. Ashton pulls him closer with a hand on the back of his neck, curving them to one another. Ashton tastes like tears and sadness, his trembling body evident of the distress he's in.

Luke pulls away, kissing his chin. "No matter what happens," he murmurs, forcing away thoughts of what could honestly happen to him, "I will always love you. You've made me happier than I've ever been."

Ashton sniffles, stepping back from him. Micahel and Calum come forward to wrap their arms around Luke, murmuring quiet goodbyes. Agent Frost and Agent Thesio stand off to the side, allowing the teens to do what they need.

Eventually, they step forward. Luke knows that means it's time to leave, but he can't bring himself to say goodbye. Not when it feels like his heart is tearing itself in two. With a sob, he throws himself into Ashton's arms, clinging to him. "I love you, I love you, I'm sorry," he gasps, hiding in the material of Ashton's shirt. "I love you so much, I'm so sorry."

This time Ashton is the strong one, gently pushing Luke back to cup his cheeks. "I love you, angel," he whispers, kissing Luke's forehead. "I always will."

There's an unspoken goodbye, because neither of them are strong enough for that word. Agent Frost ushers Luke into the car, shutting the door behind him when he climbs in. It feels final, like there's no way out of it.

Just before the car pulls away, Luke looks back at Ashton one last time. They're both crying, tears streaming down their faces. Ashton smiles slightly and mouths, _I love you_. Luke mouths it back, and then the car is pulling away from the building, taking Luke away and leaving Ashton behind. 

Luke puts his headphones in, playing the playlist that reminds him of Ashton, and closes his eyes, leaning his head against the window. He doesn't reopen them for the entire car ride.

;

When the car stops, Luke can see they aren't at the small military airport that is supposed to take him to where he's been stationed. Instead, they're at the Sydney airport, business all around them. And to his surprise, Michael stands not too far away from the car. 

"Don't just sit there, we have a flight to catch!" he shouts, laughing. Luke barrels out of the car, into Michael's arms.

"What are you doing here?" he cries. "Why am I not at the military airport?"

Michael grins. "You know that song you wrote for Ash? I took a video of you singing it and sent it to our manager. After a lot of begging, he agreed to sign you and to make a long story short you are now the fourth member of 5 Seconds of Summer and you're not going into the war. You're coming with us. You're coming with Ashton."

Luke blinks, stupefied. He can't believe this. "Where's Calum? And Ash?"

Michael snorts, leading him and the two agents through the doors. "Calum is still with Ash, didn't want to make it too suspicious. And, well, Ash is still crying. Pretty sure he's still cuddling your sweatshirt."

Luke's heart warms in his chest, and he can't wait to get to his boyfriend. Michae laughs, and quickly they check Luke's bag and get his boarding pass. It takes too long, but then suddenly they're metres away from their gate and Luke can see where Ashton is curled up. 

He takes off into a run, throwing himself into the lump snuggled into his sweatshirt. Ashton groans weakly, hitting at him. "Go away, Cal, m'not in the mood," he mumbles.

"M'not Cal," Luke grins, and Ashton sits up so fast that Luke is almost knocked off of his lap. Only Ashton's arms wrapping around his waist keep him from falling and hitting his head on the floor.

"What?" Ashton looks dumbfounded, so happily surprised that it almost hurts. Luke kisses him as an answer, threading his fingers into Ashton's hair. He can't care less that they're in a public airport, he needs to feel Ashton.

"How?" Ashton finally gasps, and Michael and Luke share a look. 

"I'll explain later," Luke smirks, stealing another kiss from Ashton. 

Their flight is announced over the speakers, and Ashton looks at Luke, hope shining in his eyes. Luke nods, can't quite keep the smile off his face. He's actually leaving, He gets to stay with Ashton for as long as the older boy will have him. 

"I told you I wouldn't give up," he murmurs happily, and the little kiss Ashton presses to his mouth feels like a promise.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! don't forget to leave kudos and comments. find me on [ tumblr ](http://lucashemwow.tumblr.com)


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